Gambler's Fallacy
by Crazy Foxie
Summary: When presented with a series of false events, one can either apply gambler's fallacy and believe the next result is false like the rest, or believe the next to be true and break the chain. The Gambler of Fate was more aware of this principle than anyone, yet still lost more than what he had bargained for.
1. It'll Take Time to Heal

**A/N:** It's been a while! I wrote this for my NaNoWriMo in 2010 and hadn't properly finished it until now. Sorry for the delay. As such, this is the backstory for Luxord (which I had incredible fun writing). There will be OCs and stuff in there, but they're there particularly for Luxord's character development. You can tell I don't invest in them as much as some writers do...including myself when I was young XD

Please also note that this was written before Dream Drop Distance, so there may be some concepts that don't officially make sense but did before the release of the game. This backstory should hopefully fill in the blanks to Luxord's life canonically speaking. Hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think.

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**I. It'll Take Time to Heal**

When someone realises that they've already lost the game, it's only natural to bring others down with them. Even if they can't win that round, they can lower the competition for the next one. In a cruel game of luck, it doesn't take long to realise that they signed up for something they shouldn't have.

For me, it was too late.

After what seemed like forever, I let my eyelids flutter open. The burning heat had dispersed in an instant, replaced by the faint glow of dusk. My inheritance, which in my memory had towered over and around me, crashing and cracking its last signs of life, was now only a series of miniature shops along a worn town centre. There were only tiny murmurs to be heard now, not the sounds of music or excitement or chaos.

I didn't know when I had gotten onto my feet. I didn't even know how I was on the floor in the first place. I wasn't aware that my jacket had snagged against the brick wall and had left an ever-growing tear on my elbow. I wasn't even sure if I was all there.

People didn't look at me twice, as though restless beggars were abundant in this area. I instinctively felt for my stubble. Shaving would be my paramount priority once I found out where I was.

I let my hand inch for my inside pocket to retrieve my leather wallet. My hand was shaking mildly as it did so. Everything that was on my person was all the possessions I had now. My fingers touched the cold surface of my dad's pocket watch briefly before finding the wallet. I hadn't done this a lot in the past, counting money. It was all figures and numbers to me. But when I finalised I had a mere thousand munny, I had to double and triple check it.

Sighing, I stuffed it back where it belonged as I tried to find out the best place to go to first. I settled with the jewellery shop, with its colourful appearance and rather attractive shop attendant.

"Hey, are you a man with taste or are you buying for a friend?" The girl leaned over the counter as she spoke, intent on the marketing I suppose. Accessories and the like were suitable for someone with six visible piercings.

I dismissed both ideas with a shake of my head. "As much as a gentleman dislikes claiming so, it's important to admit when one is lost."

The vendor broke into a smile a few seconds later, after deciphering her way through my outlandish accent and mannerisms. "It's all right, people get lost here all the time. Where are you from?"

"Traverse Town, but I don't think I'm remotely close to it."

"Yes, this area's known as Twilight Town," she clarified, her radiant smile losing its shine every second. "I haven't heard of a Traverse Town."

Apparently, what little luck I had that day had run out.

"You've been a help," I said, making a hasty exit. I should have noticed it from the moment I came here. Traverse Town was located on another world, a distant place where I couldn't hope to slink my way back to. Indeed, perhaps it was better this way. A crisp packet of cards to start the first game.

"Hey, hold up a sec!"

I did – it wasn't in me to ignore what a lady had to say.

"If you follow that road up the hill, you can get to Station Heights. There might be a train that'll take you there." The blonde girl grinned, and I returned the gesture. I doubted such a thing existed, but I didn't have the heart to burst her bubble. She was only trying to help, and I appreciated it.

"Thank you for the suggestion."

It wasn't like I had anything else to do in mind, so I did as she had advised. This town was too different from what I was used to, the buildings in bright brickwork and boasting little glamour in the work. Twilight Town, as its name suggested, made things shine in the dying flames of the sunlight. Neon, by comparison, was a harsh source of light.

Station Heights had a fantastic view of the town below. That was given though, especially after the hard climb uphill. I could see the jewellery shop from here, and a large open area where the children played sports, perhaps. I didn't know this place enough to see if an education was encouraged here.

Of course, as I read the train timetable, Traverse Town wasn't listed as one of its destinations. I let out a sigh, relieved. I had reasons for wanting to return, but there were just as many reasons I didn't want to go back. If fate had decided I should be here, then I could get used to it. The slowed-down lifestyle of a lazy afternoon without a worry in the world.

I took a newspaper from the basket as I left the station, tucking it under my arm and taking mild interest in the headline. I had left a lot behind, however I had to fold for now. And reading current news of my first days in this world would pay in the long run.

It was fortunate that I should find a bar en route to the play area I had seen from Station Heights. When I opened that door, I knew immediately the proximity was like home. I felt more at ease already, taking the table in the far corner without a moment's hesitation.

I crossed one leg over the other as I lay the newspaper on the wooden table.

_SCHOOL OPENS NEW LIBRARY_

Apparently, Twilight Town did have a school. The photo in the middle was of the said school with some rather important figures, who I could only assume was the headmaster and his closer colleagues.

"You're early," the barman shouted, and I had to look up to make sure he was talking to me.

"Bad day," I replied, which wasn't entirely a lie. "I'll have a wine."

"Wine?" the man retorted. "Not the usual?"

I couldn't fathom what he could have meant, especially since this was my first time meeting him. Did news spread about town that quickly? Everything was so bizarre.

But I was a master at bluffing. "No, red wine will do today."

The man nodded curtly and was on his way. I let his words pass over me, letting myself believe that he was drunk himself, and turned the page of the paper.

Judging from the headlines, nothing else was remotely useful. I took the time to familiarise myself with names and their photos in the scenario that I would meet them in person, and it was on page 15 that the barman came to my table.

"Terrible times, eh?" he contributed, setting the wine on the table as he sat opposite me. "I've never heard such rubbish in the papers since…forever."

I looked up, leaning back in my chair and resting a hand on my knee. "Oh? Are there some stories in there that aren't showing the whole picture?"

"Well, start with that library on the front page. Forgive the rudeness, but who cares?" The man slid the wine towards me, and I acknowledged it graciously. "The previous papers kept saying that it's near completion, and now that it's done, even the reporters are getting a bit fed up of the place."

I laughed. "That's not hard to believe."

"And if you turn to the middle…" The man leaned across and fiddled with the corners to find the right page. "Look, more news about that ludicrous Struggle competition!"

I only had to read the first few lines of the article to know what he was trying to get at. "Do you really hate children that much?"

"Whole lot of them are trouble," he elaborated. "The hype Struggle causes makes them crazy. And they get rewarded with a library? I worry about the future."

I took a sip of my red wine. "Ironic coming from a bartender. You sound like a teacher or a politian, or of a background just as respectable."

"I could say the same to you," he countered as he got onto his feet. "I find it hard to believe you're the same person. Is your friend coming later on in the evening?"

I had to bluff again to hide my horror. Had I really been here before without prior knowledge, and with someone else as well? "Perhaps. They said they had a few errands to run." I was careful not to slip up on the unknown person's gender.

The burly man nodded once. "Shame. A friend can make even the worst of days that much better. If you need someone, I'll be over there cleaning the dishes."

"Thank you for the support, but I think this is something I have to sort out for myself. You wouldn't believe it." I flashed a grin before drinking a little more of the wine.

"Fair enough. Not sure if it's a good thing, but thank goodness it's Friday." He raised an eyebrow and went on his way to the counter.

I waited for him to be out of earshot before I set my wineglass down and rapidly got to the front page again. I ignored the smug teachers and the giant headline, bringing the paper close to my face to read the date at the top.

Sure enough, as the barman said, it was a Friday. Things were getting weirder by the second. It seemed only yesterday that I was reading Sunday's paper with my morning tea. I didn't know if the die was loaded or not.

When I read the date again, the whole date, I felt my grip on the paper tighten. Two whole years. What was I doing in the two year gap?

My breaths were shallow as I steadily replaced the paper back onto the table. I still couldn't believe it. Had I been missing for two years and no one wondered where I was? Or maybe they did wonder, but gave up soon afterwards. That was more likely – even I didn't know where I was.

I brought both of my elbows onto the table, letting one hand support my head as I gazed out the window. A lot could have happened in two years, explaining why the barman may have known me.

Back at home, they probably thought of me as long dead now. Two years would be too long to wait and hope, and given the circumstances of what I last remembered, there was good reason. How old would Charles be now? Would my mother still be around?

I let my eyes close again. It was too late for amends now and I leapt into the wrong chances. Would I have lived longer if I stayed with them? If I was dead at the moment, since I certainly wasn't living, that would explain why I was so disorientated.

It would take time for all of us to heal, but we will make it. We all looked out for each other, didn't we?


	2. Two Pair

**A/N:** To make things clear now, the game-based chapter titles are the Somebody life, the time-based ones the Nobody. So pretty much from now on, it's a narrative from a to b. Hope this update is worth your while - although it seems insignificant, it serves as a good lead-up of what's to come.

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**II. Two Pair**

"And this question too."

I rubbed my eyes as I sat up into a more comfortable position. "Okay then, what's this one?"

Charles handed his textbook to me for the umpteenth time and pointed to number eighteen. "It's not like I don't know what to do, it's just that it's too confusing."

"But we've done this sort of question before," I mused as I read through the question. "Can't you try it out for yourself?" I handed the book back to my brother, and he pouted.

"I'll give it a go." Charles rolled onto his front as he clicked his pen. He set the textbook in a convenient place and started writing out the equations, muttering them under his breath. I stifled a yawn as I stole a look at the time. Half past nine.

"Okay, I've written them down now. Which one shall I do first?" He looked at me with expectant eyes. Simultaneous equations weren't exactly difficult, but my brother had a talent in making things out to be a lot more complicated.

"Whichever you think is easier. You're the one in charge of this question."

He nodded, then went back to his work. "Elimination. You'll still help me out though, right?"

"Only if you go disastrously wrong."

Having a brother three years younger meant that Charles admired me more than anyone else. He followed my example, but he also knew more about me than everyone I ever talked to. Even our parents didn't know the many secrets that we shared with each other. It also meant that I had the obligation to look out for him and make sure he stayed out of trouble. And that included doing something about the detention he had received for bad maths homework.

"So then, I'm supposed to multiply these equations, right? So I can multiply the first one by two and the other one by…five?"

I leaned over his shoulder just to make sure. Charles was never good with one formula, let alone with two. "Or you could just do the first one by three and the second by two. If you look at the values for b, they're closer together."

Charles took a moment to pretend to check. "Why didn't I see that?"

I tilted my head a little. "You have to look at the whole problem if you want to get somewhere. And doing the obvious thing won't always be the easiest. Come on, you can do this."

I got onto my feet as Charles continued with his question. I was always patient with him, although that didn't necessarily mean my body was also. My legs found it hard to get comfortable on the wooden floor, so I opted for the bed.

"When's it due in?" I asked, scooting myself onto the bed so my back leaned against the wall with my legs outstretched.

Charles didn't reply immediately, nor did he look up. "Miss Jones said she wanted it whenever I could get it done, but she had that usual scary look. I thought it would be best to get it done as soon as possible."

It was exactly for that reason I was glad he didn't share the same laid-back attitude I had. If that had been me, I would have purposefully delayed it until she forgot. I would have done anything to do the work at the last minute. That was just the way I got things done. To the point that no one bothered to call me by my full name. Even I didn't introduce myself properly anymore. If someone was to ask for Albion, the only response would be hushed murmurs, shaking heads and apologies.

Instead, my name was appropriately shortened to an already existing word. It didn't make it sound any less outlandish, but it was a nickname that had grown on me. One word that summed up my character and my attitude towards life, work and the rest of it.

"Eon."

Charles carefully placed his pen in the middle of his exercise book, letting out a sigh. His body was turned slightly away from me, but I had seen that too many times to know that something was wrong.

"What is it?"

He grimaced. "It's nothing really."

"You can tell me." I brought myself closer to him by sitting at the edge of the bed now, leaning across with an arm on my thigh. I also knew all too well he didn't like being too close in moments like this.

Charles nodded, finally looking at me with watery wide eyes. "You know Harry Jackson?"

It was my turn to nod. "You said that he was your science partner. And you sit next to each other in art. Not exactly a friend, but civil enough. Does it concern him?"

"Yeah," he said weakly. "I lied about that. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it." It was fairly common for Charles to make up tiny things like that, but there had to be a good reason why he did it this time if he was bringing it up. Things like this had an underlining reason, and if he was admitting it now, it had to be serious. "Why did you lie?"

Charles swallowed, biting down on his lower lip to stop himself in bursting into hysterics. "I didn't want to worry you, so I kept it to myself. But after what happened today, I want you to do something about it. Please."

I furrowed my eyebrows mildly. "I'll see what I can do. But if it's something serious, the first point of contact should be your teacher, not me."

"He won't do anything," Charles protested, shaking his head wildly and finally crying his first tears. "He doesn't do anything, no matter how many times he sees me and Harry's group of friends. He just…" The sentence ended abruptly with a hiccup, and I took that as an opportunity to interrupt.

I should have seen it coming. Unlike me, Charles didn't have many friends who would laugh with him. They were all equally as scared as he was. Unlike me, Charles was an academic failure and hindered everyone's progress. Perhaps that was harsh, but that was presumably what his peers thought of him. Of course he was going to make a few enemies here and there.

"How long has it been going on for?"

He sniffed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as best as he could. "A-a few weeks, I think. I lied about losing your ruler, Harry's lot broke it. That was definitely last month. Which I'm really sorry about, I didn't think-"

"Don't apologise about the ruler," I cut in once again. Rambling helped a lot in distress, but other times it took the attention of the matter at hand. I didn't want Charles to lose sight of the problem. "Has he ever hurt you?"

I felt marginally better as Charles shook his head vigorously. Bullying was a common trend in this area, where children had the ego complex in thinking they were above the rules. The parents rarely knew that their children did such things, and the teachers, although it was written in their job spec to sit down and listen, were hardly approachable.

Which usually meant it was up to the students to sort out their own troubles.

"So far, the only thing I've heard is that he breaks your things. What else does he do?"

Charles smiled, despite it not being credible to the conversation. "He calls me names and teases me before class. Retard and doofus especially…" He had to muster up his courage to tell me the last one. "And whiny Charlie."

Although Charles was dependent on others a lot, whiny was going a little far. 12-years olds these days.

I let out a sharp exhale. "Here's what we'll do. I'll see you whenever I have a free period and during the breaks. Let me know if anything that happens, and then that way we'll have evidence to present the teachers." I beamed, but Charles didn't return it.

"They'll just turn a blind eye."

"Then I won't let them." It was very likely they would, but we had to try. "Neither you nor I are good news as far as the teachers can tell, but if we kick up a fuss, they won't be able to ignore it. I'll bring Tom or someone along too, to make the story more believable."

Charles stared at me, then hope returned to his face. He rubbed at his wet cheeks and laughed softly. "You'll do that?"

"Of course. Did you think I'd laugh and do nothing?"

"No. But I think I would sound stupid. I know I look it as well." He gave a forced smile as he wiped at his eyes harder.

"Forget about that. But you promise to be strong from now on? And tell me everything that happens, even if you feel embarrassed or useless."

A few more tears fell down Charles' cheeks. "I will."

"Good," I said with an air of finality. "Once you've finished, shall we do the substitution part of your homework?"


	3. Window of Opportunity

**A/N:** For earlier supporters, you may realise that I have re-uploaded this story onto my other account. I'm sorry for the confusion this causes, but hopefully this would be better in the sense that there may be other works from other fandoms that may interest you in my profile.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this, and hopefully from now on it'd seem a little less standard. Please let me know your thoughts, constructive criticism and your opinions!

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**III. Window of Opportunity**

We walked together to the school just like any other siblings would do. I walked slightly slower than he did, and like every morning, the bell had already gone by the time we went through the school gates.

"The concert is in two weeks' time, can you believe it?"

I looked across at Charles, who was in a considerately better mood than yesterday. It was still hard to believe that the boy jumping on my bed this morning was being bullied. He was too lively for my taste, but a brother that I couldn't be without.

Why other people in his class found amusement in making others' school experience a misery I could never understand. We just had to pull through it together.

"Concert?"

Charles grinned. "You know, the concert my year's performing. I've been practising for it at home."

The violin. The screechy instrument where, if he wasn't careful enough, let out such a sound that even our normally unresponsive dad winced in pain. And a few nights ago, our dad actually confiscated the guilty instrument because Charles was practising until late.

"I hope I get better," Charles continued. "It's not that hard, but I always screw up."

I broke into a smile. "It's not all bad. I think you're improving, even if Dad doesn't think the same. You just need to keep at it until his eardrums burst."

"I don't think he would be happy." Charles looked across at the clearing, then increased the distance between us. "I'm this way. You'll come to see me during the break, right?"

I nodded and waved him off. He ran to registration in the other block, I wandered up the stairs and down the corridor to mine. That was the way it was – I had more late marks than everyone else in the school combined. I took pride in them, and the form tutor had given up trying to tell me to leave the house earlier. I simply didn't see the point of meeting their agenda.

Humans were a naturally lazy race. Animals hunted for their food, humans simply got them from the market. To me, there was no point trying to bury that instinct.

I was in no hurry for an hour of history. Even when I arrived five minutes late, I didn't pay any attention to what Mr Barry had to say about agriculture back in the days humans were primitive. I didn't even know that Traverse Town used to be as backwards as that. It was all technology from one end to the other.

It was fifty minutes in when the school secretary poked her head round the door. She waddled to the teacher, whispered a few things and turned to face the class. Mr Barry looked considerably miffed.

"Apparently, there's a Jack Ludor here." The secretary wasn't buying her own statement either.

People round me shook their heads, and someone behind me even whispered the name with disgust. It didn't hold much meaning to me whatsoever, other than no one in our class was called that, but the man hovering at the door got my attention.

He was tall, I could tell from here. Horn-rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight, which poured from the window at the end of the corridor. He was dressed a suit so formal that Mr Barry's normally creaseless one was shabby in comparison. He had a foreboding air about him that couldn't compare to anyone else I knew, not even the students who bullied people for fun.

As an adult, he was on a different scale.

And he was staring right at me.

At the end of the lesson, I was still thinking about the man. The secretary must have told him that Jack Ludor didn't exist, but I still saw him lingering at the door for the remaining ten minutes. Tom had picked up on the suspicion of it all too, and it had reassured me to think it wasn't just me thinking it was strange.

We decided together that we would teach him the rules around here, especially since it was break now. After saying a few words to the rest of our friends, the two of us were the first ones out the door.

Sure enough, the tall man was still lingering at the door. He looked up from the floor and stared at me again. "Jack."

I didn't have time to react as he grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me down the corridor. I struggled to keep up and not fall flat on my face. All thoughts of teaching the stranger the way things worked were out of the window, and instead my brain was filled with questions. Couldn't this count as assault, for example? "Jack? I don't know what you're talking about."

"We're only having a chat. Harmless."

He let go of my wrist at last, and I realised that we were at the end of the corridor. The window was my only way to escape without crossing the man. I looked past him at Tom, who shrugged. In less than fifteen seconds, our plan had dissolved and now we were both equally lost. Our classmates piled out, their vacant expressions and murmurs a considerable distance away.

"I think it would be for the best if you reconvene next lesson," the man replied for me, never letting his green eyes off me. "We may be here for a while."

Tom looked between us in disbelief, but I reassured him with a firm nod.

I waited for him to leave before going for the offensive. "The name's Eon. I'm not who you think I am."

The man made to say something, then he shrugged. "Is that what she called you? An appalling name choice."

I didn't elaborate on the subject. "Why are you here? Why did you pick me out of the crowd?"

"Don't I get to introduce myself?" He took of his glasses and smirked at my silence. "Call me Joker. Naturally, it's an alias. Don't take it the wrong way."

"Why would I take it the wrong way?" I said icily, grabbing the windowsill with both hands and sliding my body onto the flat surface. "You're only accusing me of being someone else and equally keeping your identity secret. Have you plucked any other students out of class like this?"

Joker laughed, and I felt myself grip the windowsill harder. It was hard which was more ear-shattering: the laugh or Charles' violin. "Goes with the job description to have a keen eye. Your mother's Sarah, correct?"

I nodded slowly, still suspicious but less hostile.

He picked up on it just as quickly. "Good, you're behaving yourself. How's the family?"

Right now, I wanted to fall out this window and not see this man again. "I have a dad and a brother. We run a shop in the First District and pay rent every month. Anything else? Because if you turn out to be a stalker, you'll be answering to me." I hardened my stare. "And I'm not nice when I'm angry."

"Oh, that's not so good." Joker didn't take notice of the last statements, replacing his glasses onto his nose and glancing over his shoulder. "Did she ever tell you of her previous flame?"

My hands clenched. "What do you mean?"

"Sarah conceived a child with another man. She was selected from the crowd, chosen to continue the Ludor lineage. Thus Jack Ludor was born."

I brought one leg up onto the sill, grinning. "You must have made a mistake. I have a brother! We're blood related, both with the same parents!"

"Half-brother," Joker corrected firmly. "You have nothing to do with that family, not anymore. It's time for you to fulfil what you were born to."

"I won't listen," I interrupted swiftly. How did he expect me to believe something so absurd without proof? Ever since he came along, things were starting to unravel before my eyes.

"If that's the way you want to play the game." He stepped to one side, and I almost took that as an invitation to leave. "I have the upper hand, don't forget."

I didn't move from the window. I repeated his words in my head a few times before I made the connection that I had to play by his rules. "Why do you think I'll believe you?"

Joker smiled, revealing his surprisingly straight teeth. "Let me tell you something. I'll narrate you the story, and it's your choice if you want to believe it or not. But, if you refuse the invitation, it'll be given to someone else. And, looking at the situation, it'll probably be the half-brother."

I remained silent. If Charles was ever confronted by this complete stranger and told his family was a lie, he wouldn't be able to think for himself. He would most likely let this man manipulate him and tamper with his entire history. That wasn't what any of us wanted.

"Let's hear it."

Joker didn't waste any time. "As I've said before, your father isn't who you're living with. His name's Hadrian Ludor, but for status purposes, he's known as King. The Ludor family have inherited a casino through three generations, you being the fourth. I doubt you've seen it."

I shook my head. "Is it in one of the districts further down?"

"Towards the bad end of town, yes," Joker clarified through a light snicker. "Being the blood relative of King Ludor and reaching a mature age, it's vital for you to learn the ropes of business before you inherit the company for yourself."

"Inherit?" I repeated. I had wanted to be an accountant in the family shop since finding my passion in mathematics. It was almost definite that Charles and I would run it together. If I was to be given an entire casino, then what kind of future would that be? "You're putting a lot of risk on whether I accept or not, and if I'm the right person at all."

Joker laughed again, and I flinched visibly. "That's what it's all about. Think of this as a window of opportunity. It's open, but it's up to you if you want to jump through it. As for finding the right person…I have faith in my capabilities."

I slid off the windowsill, to prevent myself from actually fall out of it. "I'll have to think things through. Can you give me that at least?"

Joker reached for his inside pocket and whipped out a card. "Five of Clubs. I'll give you five weeks. Come to the Silver Lynx when you accept the proposition."

I chose to overlook his choice of words. I disliked how Joker acted like he knew me, how he had me all figured out in a few minutes. At the end of the day, it was my choice.

"Thank you," I muttered, brushing past him with surprising ease. I couldn't feel my feet anymore, I couldn't breathe. I had to ask Mum, I had to know. I didn't know where else to go – could one person's future change so much over the course of a fraction of life?

"And Jack? Don't mention this conversation to anyone."

I turned my head slightly, still annoyed about the alias. "Why? I can do what I want."

"Hey, it's safety procedures. It's best to keep them in the dark, or the wrong people may find them." He sighed. "If others were to find your origins, they could do unthinkable things to them for all sorts of reasons. It's best to keep that past identity to yourself and conveniently…forget."

"Are you trying to say they'll be in danger of your kind? Even though, according to your story, my mum knows all about me and the risk I bring?"

Joker shrugged nonchalantly. "All the more reason to hide it. People are unpredictable, especially the mothers and when it comes down to trust. She has hidden it for so long; a few more years can't hurt." He slotted the card back into his pocket. "The window's open for five weeks. If you'll excuse me, I have to report to King Ludor."


	4. The Odds Against Being Eon

**A/N: **Anotherupdate for you people. I got really confused whilst writing this, but it just goes to show the mental storm that's going on in Eon's brain is doing its job :D Hope you like the update and please let me know what you thought!

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**IV. The Odds Against Being Eon**

The rest of the day dragged, even during the maths lesson that normally whizzed by. Tom noticed my dampened mood immediately, but I didn't have the courage to tell him everything I had on mind. I merely told him that Joker was a convicted madman, and that the things he said weren't meant to hurt but they did. In a way, it put the matter into perspective.

I spent the lunch hour on my own, missing out on the afternoon registration entirely. I was concerned about the five weeks to come, and whether I could face my 'family'. Were they really mine, like I had originally thought for fifteen years?

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't see my family the way I had before. The shop was meant to be the family business, where I would be in charge of accounting and Charles the sales (once his social skills improved a bit). Our dad encouraged that fact more than anything, letting us help out over the weekends and see the profits of the month. If he had known about me, then would that have been different? What was the point of flouncing a future I couldn't have?

Or were they all in on it, lying to me for all these years and assuming I would simply accept it all?

I still had disorganised thoughts by the time I met up with Charles after school and walked him home. His nose was slightly hooked, his long eyelashes different to mine – both stunning features that matched our mum at every angle.

But me, as I stared long and hard at myself in the bathroom mirror after coming home, I didn't have much of Mum's features at all. And now I failed to see even one thing about myself that resembled Dad. The three of them were brunettes, I was platinum blonde. My eyes were considerably narrower than Charles, the blueness more than a few dials brighter than my dad's. I hadn't given much thought to why I was so different – I had assumed that the genetics must have messed up in the process. Or that the traits of my grandparents or my great grandparents had managed to skip the generations.

But now, I could only see a stranger when I saw myself.

"Why didn't come to see me today?" Charles asked as he got the glasses ready for dinner.

I sighed. I had forgotten completely about the promise I had made to him, and now I had the great joys of lying my way through. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the whole truth, and it wasn't because of Joker's warning. "I had some urgent errands to run." I leant closer to him so our parents wouldn't hear what I said next. "Did something happen?"

"Not really," he murmured. "Just the names, but that's all."

I laughed softly. "You know you're better than that. Come on, let's get some food in there." I punched his stomach playfully, almost making him drop the glasses in surprise.

"Eon, I hope you're not teasing him." Mum gave me a scowl, and I knew that she didn't approve of the potential accident.

"He wouldn't even be fun to tease," I reassured her, steering her away from the suggestion she had conjured up herself. More importantly, I didn't want her to believe that Charles was a victim of bullying in school, and a simple trigger conversation like this could lead straight to that thought. And a lecture wasn't what I wanted right now.

Dad passed me the water jug, and I had no choice but to take it from him. His face was rounded, mine was gaunt. His facial creases were all wrong, and it made me frustrated not to find any sort of similarities with him. "You and I both know the truth. Charles is the baby after all, and you're the one who makes him strong. We both know he needs toughening up."

He pushed me on the shoulder gently as I went to the table.

"Matthew!"

I exchanged grins with him as I poured water into one of the glasses. "You've made Mum angry now! You're in trouble."

Dad rolled his eyes. "You're not going to stick up for me?"

My smile didn't waver, even as my thoughts did. This banter didn't have the joys that I remembered. It was all made-up, completely played-out. The humour had turned sour over a single day. "Not this time round. You did it all by yourself."

"So much for the caring big brother. You have to look after your dad from time to time."

I almost splashed water down my front as I turned too quickly. It was such a normal evening, the bickering amongst family members and sticking up for each other. Charles was the world to my mum, and I had to look out for everyone, it seemed.

But the words stung, even though they weren't meant to. My grin earlier was only seconds ago, but I wasn't even sure if that was me anymore. Was Matthew even my real dad? He didn't have the right to say that to me. He must have known, the same way my mum also knew the danger of me. Or else why would they have married? How else could she explain my existence? What had previously been the ordinary banter unfolded into a drawn-out fantasy, that I had a family that loved and cared for me.

I didn't want to see how dissimilar we were. There was too much evidence to suggest I didn't really belong here. People used to say that we had the same facial structure – I may have seen it once in an unconscious bid to belong, but there was nothing there now. And the sight was beginning to scare me.

When I helped with the washing up after dinner, I didn't feel the usual closeness I had with Mum. We were simply two people, even though she was potentially my only blood relative under this roof. The odds against me being Eon Green were getting higher, and she was the one that made it harder for me. I was running out of options.

"Eon?"

She looked between me and the plate I had dropped into the sink, broken china twisting in the water. My hands were so slippery from too much washing up liquid, and I left them outstretched before me. A hand started rubbing my back; small circles between the shoulder blades.

"Did something happen at school?"

I had to bite my lower lip to stop myself from spilling the beans. If I had to protect my family, my involvement with Joker and the exposure to my origins had to be a horrible secret. But at the same time, I wanted some sort of comfort that I belonged here, not there.

Joker was wrong. "It's been a long day," I chose to reply, picking up the pieces with shaking fingers and leaving them to one side. I hoped it would also quell the storm within my brain and heart, but it didn't have a tremendous effect.

Mum let out a sympathetic sigh. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. Have an early sleep, then you'll feel better tomorrow."

I couldn't tell if she believed my excuse, or if she was trying to make me feel better. It was so hard how I couldn't say anything to her. And it must have hurt her just as much, if she was feeling what I wanted her to feel. I believed that she knew this day was to come, where I would one day find out the truth. After all this time, had she been dreading this day, knowing that I might take off to claim my future?

Or was Joker just trying to shake me? I didn't know who to trust and what to think anymore.

I nodded. "Yes, an early night would be nice."

The hand on my back stopped, then slid up to my shoulder to force me into my mum's embrace. I didn't pull away, I just stood there completely stunned. I bit on my lower lip harder. I didn't want her to let me go, and I didn't want to leave her either. Even though it was sappy, especially coming from cool and nonchalant me, I repeated to myself over and over I wanted to be here. The family may be fake, but the idle times I spent with them were ones I could treasure.

Mum was the one who had to separate us. "If there's anything I can help with, let me know." She tucked her fringe behind her ear and smiled. The same awkward look that I mirrored, as if we both knew that this conversation was strained and wasn't helping. "Go."

I dried my hands and brushed my teeth in record speed. It was rare for me to get things done in a hurry, but lying on my bed doing absolutely nothing but think made up for it in the long run.

The odds against me being Eon was still in turmoil, but the odds against acceptance were getting lower and lower.


	5. Dealer

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken so long for an update - I proof-read the chapter, notice next chapters a mess and try to fix it, and consequently forget that I'm meant to upload this chapter XD If anything, this is insight into Eon and Charles personality-wise - may not matter now, but it's reasonably important.

Anyway, hope that you enjoy it and if you have a moment to spare, please let me know you're out there :D

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**V. Dealer**

The following day I actually managed to fulfil my promise. Like my mum had said, after an early sleep, I found it so much easier to get on with my normal life without it bothering me too much. Five weeks was ideal for me to make a final decision, and it wasn't until later I realised I was glad Joker pulled out that card. I would have panicked if he had picked anything lower.

I didn't go straight to the canteen after we decided our table for lunch. The rest of my friends went on without me, but I made a beeline for Charles and his group of twelve-year olds.

I purposefully made him jump by shaking his shoulder. Playfully, of course. I wasn't deemed as a bully, but it was obvious that I doted on my younger brother, and his circle of friends was aware of it. They resumed to their conversation as I sat with them, and Charles turned on his seat mildly to talk to me more comfortably.

"You came!"

I scowled. "You thought I wouldn't? A big brother doesn't break the same promise twice. So, how are things coming along?"

Charles shrugged. "Nothing big. Actually, they haven't done much at all today."

"That's a good thing, surely?" I remarked after a brief pause, letting a hand reach for my neck. It was surprisingly painful to keep my head down but not too low to make it look like I was sleeping.

"Not really," Charles said slowly. "I have a feeling they're planning something. It's only the first part of lunch, and I really hope that nothing happens during the second half. Or for the rest of the day, thinking about it."

I smiled at the small joke. It was nice to see he was still in good spirits. "Well one can hope. I'm on the table over there, so I'll keep an eye and ear out if you ever need me."

Charles nodded, looking past my shoulder. "The one to look out for is the guy with the streaked blonde hair. He's quite chubby as well. He's…" He arched his head a little before he said, "two tables behind you."

"Okay, I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him. I could even try to listen to him as I grab some food. Anyway, I'll meet up with you at the gates if nothing happens, as usual."

Charles nodded again, picking up a chip from his plate. "Can you be there earlier, please? You were really late yesterday and it was getting cold and windy."

I arched an eyebrow – the kid needed to toughen up. "I'll see how I feel, but you really ought to eat something a bit healthier for lunch." I snickered as I stole a chip myself. "I'll consider that as payment."

It had been a while since I ate something so fatty. Despite the lazy appearances, I wasn't the sort of person who indulged themselves in chocolate or greasy food. I settled with a Caesar salad and a standard bottle of juice (which I rarely drank all of) for lunch, making eye contact with Charles as I went to my seat.

"I'm telling you! The guy at the fountain, the one that looked like a right homeless thing? Yeah, he practically clung onto me last night. He was a pain to shake off afterwards."

That was as much as I could manage to hear as I passed Harry's table. I knew fully well that they were up to no good, but so long as it wasn't directed at Charles, they could do what they pleased.

I couldn't listen out for the rest of their conversation due to the constant buzz of the lunch hall, but I kept an eye on them as I promised. It was soon the end of the school day without an incident and I arrived (despite the chip as payment) fashionably late at the school gates.

But as I looked left and right, I realised with a sinking feeling that there was something up with this picture. It wasn't the crowd (I was normally too late to get caught in the rush) and I had to check the time to be sure I hadn't come out early. Rather, Charles was nowhere in sight. Not that he was not in the bustle of screaming children and the outburst of teenage boys' laughter, but he genuinely wasn't in the bundle at all.

I dashed towards the school – there wasn't anywhere else he could be. And if Harry had got to him, probably right now, Charles would be pretty scared.

Doors flung open as I searched all the classrooms that were nearby. Rational thinking didn't even come into play until later on, when I did the more sensible thing and ran towards his form room. It's strange, freaking out. It was what I should have done when I heard the news of my real biological dad and fake family, but my heart had never raced this loud or hard. Was that natural?

I finally saw him at the lockers in a sea of papers. His back was to me, but his arms were clasped round his stomach and rocked to and fro. One locker door on the second row was open, and it only took me a few guesses to realise what had happened.

I got onto my knees, making sure not to put my muddy shoes anywhere near his work. "It's not that bad." I observed the wreckage, and the only thing I could assume was that Harry had ripped up Charles' exercise books and played fireworks with them. Where Charles was at the time was what I wanted to know. "Are you hurt?"

My brother turned his tear-streaked face to me, not saying anything.

"Tell me what happened, it's not going to fix itself."

I knew I hit the right button as Charles looked away slightly. "Well, I didn't see them do it. I just came out of class to see this. And my PE bag's missing and…and I need that for tomorrow."

I let out a sigh in thought. "Well, I might have some things at home you could use for the lesson. They might be a bit big, but that shouldn't matter too much."

"No," Charles said fiercely, his eyes intent on the floor. I arched an eyebrow for him to continue. "I don't want more of your things ruined because of me. It's not fair on you."

"And it's not fair for you to go through this alone," I countered swiftly, making my point by observing the scattered papers. "It's gotten to the stage you need to talk to someone. And if you're not going to, I will."

I pick up the nearest sheet, noting it was on squared paper. That was probably the maths.

"I don't think that'll do anything," Charles started, but I stopped him with a stern look before he could continue.

"Charles, what I see is those kids shoving you round. And you're not doing a thing about it. If you think it'll get better, think again." It was the truth, and he was having difficulty in realising that. "If you have such a pessimistic view before you even try, then of course it's going to get worse."

I started an English and science pile of classwork as I looked at the past three months of Charles' academic life. Relatively average grades were circled in red, masses of scribbles from incorrect words to whole paragraphs.

"I didn't want to bother you. It's not too serious really – I can cope with all this, and they'll probably get bored of it in the end. There are loads of other people who are just as cowardly as me."

"Don't think like that," I cut in, determined to cut that train of thought. "You're not cowardly. You're really quite assertive if you could express yourself like that in public places. Yes, home and school is different, but you shouldn't be so afraid to be here."

Charles sniffed, and I inwardly hoped he wasn't going to start up again. The corridor was deathly silent besides us, and it would attract the wrong sort of attention if someone overheard us.

"We'll sort this out. Let's clear this up and take whatever bits you need to tonight if you have any homework. You can use my bag as well if you have too much or you don't want to leave it here overnight. About the PE kit, we'll visit the lost property and the reception to see if they saw it anywhere. With any luck, your friends might have misplaced them rather than do anything to it." I smiled as I started reading the simultaneous equations work I had helped with. "89 percent? That's great!"

Charles smiled shyly as he looked over my shoulder. "That was with your help, so it doesn't count."

"It counts," I replied nonchalantly, putting the paper on the maths pile. "Listen, I'll help you however many times you need me to. Just promise me you'll stop beating yourself up. It's only natural to think that you can't change what other people think, but you really need to stand up for yourself."

Charles gave a small nod. "I'll try."

"It's a deal."

And as we continued to clear up the paperwork, my mind was on other things. Did I care about him so much because we were brothers, or because we had grown up together? I had thought of the two things as the same, but perhaps it was kinder for me to separate them like the simultaneous equations.


	6. Showdown

**A/N:** Quick update. This is the last 'boring' chapter, I promise you XD But again, these early chapters exist so you can compare and contrast to what he becomes -nods- As always, thanks for reading and for dealing with these slow chapters...

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**VI. Showdown**

It went without saying that reception and lost property didn't find a standard blue PE bag. I knew that that was going to happen, but it didn't hurt to try, and now desperate measures had to be taken. As Charles rightly said, teachers were hopeless. And as I had thought that same night, it was up to the students to make the difference.

I left the house ten minutes earlier than normal time, stuffing a quick slice of toast and a sip of water as my breakfast. I didn't register Mum's look of surprise as I dashed out the front door and shouting back that Charles would be fine by himself. It was a considerably different pace to our normal mundane mornings, which were idle and made the time go slower than it actually was. It was shocking when I was walking to the school gates to see so many people despite the steady rain, some even having a good laugh just inside and not actually going to registration.

Instead of heading to my form class, I went towards the other block towards Charles'. It didn't take me long to find the right room, and as I peered through the window, I knew instantly that Harry was the one sitting on the table.

I opened the door with a damp hand, and a good dozen pairs of eyes questioned why I was there. "Harry? Miss Jones wants a quick word with you."

The filthy child glared at his friends as one of them said, "Ooh, someone's got themselves a detention". It would have been immature if someone my age did that (which I did all the time), but it was almost an innocent suggestion.

Harry kicked himself off the table and I let him through the door first. I made certain to resist slamming the door, and gestured for the child to go up the corridor.

"I bet you've just received a detention yourself," he spat, making sure to glower at my undone tie and unkempt hair. "How come she isn't telling me off personally?"

I grinned at the prospect of getting to the best bit. I waited until we were far enough down the corridor before I answered his question. "Because she's not coming to see you."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. Well, he would have done if I hadn't shoved him into the neat line of wet coats along the cloakroom. He stumbled and gracefully landed on the wood beneath. Quite surprising to watch really, especially since he wasn't the most athletic kid I had seen.

"What was that for? Who are you?"

I narrowed my eyes. I would have assumed that, just by looking at me, people could tell Charles and I were siblings. But with me having a different dad, perhaps that didn't help much at all. "That doesn't matter a great deal. What have you done with Charles' PE kit?"

His chin wobbled as he tried to find the right words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" I smiled cruelly as I leaned against the opposite wall. If Harry hadn't done anything violent to my brother, then I guess it was only fair that I did the same back to him. Despite it being so tempting. "Well, unless he was crying at the lockers and lying to me for no apparent reason, I don't believe you."

Harry bared his teeth at me. "I don't even know who you are!"

I really wanted to laugh then. Were we really so different? Did it have to be spelt out? I had heard of statements where so and so looked just like their sibling. But had that statement ever been directed at _me_? I had thought so, but perhaps it wasn't the case and I had made an honest mistake.

"I'm Charles' big brother, is that good enough?"

He looked absolutely flabbergasted. I suppose Charles hadn't made a show about me outside his friends, and I didn't mind that in the slightest. I wasn't the sort to be admired anyway, what with having the late record of the century. I just thought that anyone would be able to tell we were related.

"So, are you going to tell me where you put it? I'd hate to think you'd done something drastic with it, especially since the PE lesson is…first period, was it?"

I heard and saw him swallow. Three years difference really did make some impact. "It's on the playing field. W-we threw it up the tree."

I beamed. "Thanks. And next time you think it's funny to make my brother cry, it'll be more than a pep-talk you'll get." If that even counted as a pep-talk, anyway. It required a lot of time to think up of a proper one, and I hardly had that level of charisma.

Harry bought it though, vigorously nodding and clambering onto his feet. "Yeah, I know. I won't go near him again."

"Thanks," I said again with a smile. "And I think your parents would want to know what happened as well, won't they? Let's not give them the false impression that their son's going to grow up wonderful and kind to everyone he meets. And for your information, I'd have no hesitation to step in."

"No, I'll do it!"

"Good to know we understand each other. Have a nice day." I watched him dash back to his friends, probably looking considerably paler than if he had a confrontation with Miss Jones.

Now to work.

I would have gotten Tom to help me if there wasn't a deadline. I was normally so late to class that people would think it was strange for me to be on time to poke my head round the door. Even if it meant getting caught vandalising school property or whatever crime climbing trees was, I didn't need to think of the consequences.

Finding a blue bag in a giant tangle of green was harder than it sounded. Especially since it was the morning, where the sun's rays weren't exactly the most illuminating in the first dreary hours.

It wasn't up terribly high to my relief – I didn't know what I was expecting from a bunch of twelve year olds. I grabbed hold of the string and tugged a few times to get it down.

I supposed it was near the end of registration that I managed to get it down, legging it to Charles' form room and rapping on the door harder than I thought I did.

The second time I opened the door, I think some of the students did a double take. Harry didn't look at me altogether, and the tired man at the teacher's desk looked up from what I could assume was the register. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Do you mind if I could borrow Charles for a moment?"

I think Charles was up before his form tutor gave the go-ahead. It wasn't like he could turn round and say no to me. I didn't get that sort of vibe off him.

"Eon! Why did you take off this morning?" he shouted at me once I closed the door. "I've never walked to school on my own, and you just expected me to be all right with it?"

I grinned. "Accept my apology?" I held up the PE kit triumphantly, and Charles' eyes widened. He looked between me and the bag, uncertain of what to say. "We've both been through a lot this morning. I'd say that we're even."

Charles nodded, slightly dazed as I handed the bag to him. "You did this? For me?"

"Yeah, looks that way. And Harry even said that he won't bother you anymore."

He blinked, probably repeating the words in his head to make sure he understood what I had said. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I said a few words to him, and he turned tail," I explained with a grin. "Let's just say I was playing nice and let him make his choice about what to do. After all, he knows now that he'd have to answer through me now."

Charles hugged me round the waist, PE kit crashing into my side. I didn't care if there would be a bruise there in the morning – I just wanted us two to be together for as long as this month would let me.

As I stroked the top of his brown hair, I came to realise something. Not only would Charles not be able to cope with such a future, but he wouldn't be fit for it. Owning an entire company and demanding respect from subordinates was beyond his league, and if he had to depend on others about something as trivial as bullying, I didn't want him to suffer on a larger scale with no one to depend on. He wouldn't know the first thing about being the one on top, being the one to be in charge. The thing I loved about him was that he knew that he was innocent, ignorant in thinking that his education and character was insignificant.

He wouldn't be able to survive a day at the Silver Lynx. And, even if my dad really was someone other than Matthew, I realised then that I would have to take the blow for Charles.

There wasn't a way to save both of us. I looked out for him all this time, and now I would have to entrust that to Mum. I wouldn't be there for any of them, but it was for the better.


	7. Blackjack

**A/N: **And now we leave the phoney family behind. With this bridge chapter that effectively bridges the two lives together, it serves as a good stepping stone of what he was and what he will be. Still, I hope this scene is enough to put the Luxord personality into light - maybe not right now, but you'll see what I mean :) Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think please! I can't tell if this is too slow/boring for you or if it's something you're getting hooked to...

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**VII. Blackjack**

A month went quicker than I wanted it to go. I went to Charles' concert, and I clapped harder than anyone in my family when the performance had finished. I treated him to a small present afterwards, spoiled him for all his work in the way I wouldn't be able to in the future. I helped him with his maths whenever he had homework due, leaving mine to the last minute as well. But that wasn't all too out of the ordinary, now thinking about it.

I wasn't aware of my arrangements regarding school. I would have loved to finish the semester, have the end of year party once the exams had finished. I even had to turn down Tom's offer of a sleepover since I didn't want to disappoint him when it was certain I wouldn't turn up.

Despite me often being a bit laid-back regarding time, I set my heart on leaving on the fourth weekend after my conversation with Joker. A weekend was my best choice, letting me see all the family before I said goodbye for them for either a long time or forever. I wanted them to be the last faces to see before embarking on the journey ahead.

My schoolbag was packed with things other than schoolbooks in there now, with photos of the family and as many sentimental items I could put in there. A few bangles from our shop that I personally would never wear. My favourite jacket that my mum had stitched up the sleeve recently for.

I opened the wardrobe, and it was in there that I slotted a discrete note (with the corner still showing) into the pocket of my school uniform.

_Give this to Charles when he reaches my year. A new uniform would be expensive._

I opened the window and lowered my bag as far as I could before dropping it into the bushes below. I waited a few seconds to make sure that no one heard, then did a last sweep round the room. My sheets were changed, the dead batteries from the alarm clock chucked into the bin.

And the notes.

_Take lots of embarrassing pictures of Mum on her birthday._

_Don't forget that the restock day's Friday next week, not Tuesday._

The more I saw that I was leaving the place, the more I couldn't believe it. I had been here for fifteen years, yet as I looked at everything in my room, it suddenly didn't feel that long at all.

I snatched my wallet from my bedside table and stuffed it into my trouser pocket, getting back to the mission I was meant to. I shut the door behind me without looking back. Charles poked his head round the door next door, which was the entrance to his room.

"Are you leaving?"

I nodded. I wasn't leaving for a snooker match like what I had said the previous evening over dinner; my friends didn't have such a thing arranged. It was a standard goodbye, and I would be back in the evening.

"Aren't you going to see me off?"

Charles smiled shyly. "Of course I will."

I wouldn't have wanted him to miss it for the world either. I let my hand drag across the banister as I went down the stairs, its wooden touch so familiar.

My mum and dad were next, my shoes lined up at the bottom of the stairs exactly where I left them when I conveniently realised I had forgotten my money. I noted that they've been straightened up, since I recall kicking them off rather than being formal about it.

I grinned as I put on the first shoe. "I won't be long, I promise." I directed this as Mum, who I knew would know what I was going to do. Perhaps she had always worried about that whenever I left the house, for there were times she would cry when I was back later than I had promised.

I didn't pay attention to the guilt that ate at me now.

"We know that, son. Just enjoy yourself."

I let Matthew's words brush over me. He and I weren't related, yet our time together was genuine. I can only hope that he would watch over the family for my sake. It was about time Charles opened up to his blood relatives rather than to me.

I nodded as I got to my feet. "Thank you. I'll be off then."

All three of them waved me off at the door. I looked back more than once at their smiling faces, falsely believing that it was just another day. I dreaded to think what would happen beyond that moment, where my disappearance could very well damage the family. But it was out of my hands now, and it was for their sake more than mine.

I walked right to the street corner before I went back to retrieve my bag in the bushes. It would have been the end of me if someone had seen me, and I half hoped that someone would, to prevent me from leaving.

But no such thing did as I dusted my shoulder bag, putting the strap over my head and breaking into a run away from everything I had ever grown up with.

I wasn't particularly great in PE, so it naturally wasn't long until I was out of breath and walked the rest of the way to the bad end of town: District Five. It looked just like the rest of Traverse Town, with neon lights overhead and the small number of people busting at its centre.

The thing there was was noise. Not of chatter and the latest gossip, but music and something almost magical and alluring. And it didn't take a genius to work out that music and pretty colours were the one thing people couldn't resist.

I hadn't thought much of casinos. I did my best to halt that train of thought until this moment, where that was the only future I had now. It was a place of fun, a place where perhaps people got together if fate let that happen.

Ultimately though, that was idealistic.

I followed a dingy alleyway towards the source of the music, and sure enough, the words I was looking for shone above me in a painful flashing sequence, greens and purples in big pulses. The decorative accessory lights marked the end of the building, and I could tell by standing at the doors that the interior was larger than what I could imagine. The Silver Lynx was beyond my expectations, and I wasn't entirely sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

I ran a tongue over my lips, nervously glancing behind me. This was my last chance to dash back home.

The doors opened suddenly, and I jumped backwards in a state of panic. I didn't think the staff would know me immediately and drag me in, but that was certainly the first impression that I got.

"Hey, you going in?"

I looked between the man and the door, and it occurred to me that the man was only offering to hold the door.

"Right, thanks," I said hurriedly as I relieved him of the door. I didn't look at him in the eye for long – casinos weren't the place for people under eighteen. The floor changed from dingy slabs to a deep gold, the carpet squishing beneath my feet as I entered my new world.

Of course, the distant music turned into a racket in an instant. But there was laughter, sounds of things ranging from glasses to chips clinking. To be honest, I wouldn't have guessed there were so many people in one room. The chandelier above was spectacular, and the upstairs floors boasted a banister so grand it put the one at home to shame.

Here, I was Jack Ludor. Eon Green was dead the moment he left the house.

I weaved my way through the crowds as I learned more about this place. The waitresses were all girls, in tight-fitting purple dresses and rather high boots. The men's uniform was a black waistcoat with matching trousers and purple bow tie. I wasn't fond of the colour, I gradually noticed as I made eye contact with a particularly grouchy bartender.

When I was in charge, everything will have order.

"Four of a kind."

"You cheat! You haven't lost a single game yet!"

I raised my head towards the poker table, and one man had stood up and pointing finger at the accused. Admittedly, I was interested in how the matter would be resolved.

"Nonsense. You're new to the game, of course you were going to lose," the other man said as he got onto his feet too. I took note of his tuxedo, and compared it with the man in the faded trousers.

"Gentlemen, let's deal with this rationally." The dealer had gotten himself involved in the situation – a person with mild authority. "I'm sorry sir, but the other player won fair and square. I suggest you decide if you want to proceed with the game."

The apparent loser picked up his leather jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over. His mouth was pursed, evidently doing his best to restrain from spitting. "Whatever. I should have seen this coming. You all stick up for each other at the end of the day."

He turned to leave, and the other player took his chips with a brief nod to the dealer.

Altogether, it turned out to be the best possible conclusion.

"Things could have turned out a lot worse," I commented as I approached the dealer.

He smiled. "It's always like that with anyone. A game doesn't always go well for both sides of the party. And there are certain instances where the person with the lower hand simply can't accept their loss in a courteous way." He cleared up the cards and put them to one side as he used the other hand to get out a new deck. "Are you enrolling for a game, sir?"

"No, I'm underage," I admitted without a second thought. "I'm actually looking for a man who goes by the name of Joker. Do you know where I can find him?"

He stared at me as though I had said something rather outrageous. "Joker? What business do you have with him? He's right hand man to King himself, what right do you have?"

I was about to explain my situation, then caught myself just in time. This dealer was just an employee – he didn't need to know the details. Even I didn't know how much of it was true, only that here was the only place I should be. I had left my family behind for this, and I had to get to Joker using whatever means I could. "Look, do you know where he is or don't you?"

"Sir, no one gets to Joker without a decent reason. That's basic regulations here. Terrorism, personal grudge, safety procedures. State your name and occupation, then I'll put a word through."

I shrugged. It was now or never. "Jack Ludor. I don't think you need three guesses what my occupation is."

I knew immediately he didn't believe me. I took a few steps backwards, letting his eyes search me up and down before I crashed into the poker table behind me. "What proof have you? There's no evidence whatsoever."

"Tell me," I pressed, raising my chin in the same way I had done with Harry. I didn't pay attention to the fact he was a good twenty years older than me. His bottom lip trembled, and it was clear that he refused to believe I was who I was claiming to be. How many people had claimed the name before me? Jack was just an alias, and Ludor was the family name that everyone knew.

I just needed to get to him to know that I was the one he was looking for all this time.

"I'm calling security. There have been hundreds of people naming themselves Jack Ludor. It's a comfy place at the top of the food chain, you know."

I grinned. "And I imagine that you've wanted to be there yourself."

I ducked to avoid him attacking me over the head. I didn't know how many fights had taken place in the casino, but that was the least of my problems.

The bald dealer shouted "security" repeatedly, and it was only a matter of time I would get thrown out if I didn't start running. Running wasn't my strong point, but everything depended on this one moment.

I dodged their hands, ran between the customers the way only a teenager could. I needed to increase my distance from them, and upon seeing the stairs towards the grand upper floor, I knew that was the way to go.

I was out of breath by the time I was running down that long corridor towards the back of the building, but I pushed myself to the limits. The rush of footsteps behind me was accompanied by the screams of "stop!" but I kept going despite my stitch becoming increasingly painful.

I had to, if I was to have the future that was dangling before my eyes. Everything depended on it – for the first time in a long time, I didn't want to wait.

It was either from carelessness or lack of control that I had somehow ran straight into a large man as I turned the corner. I flew back upon impact, staggering a few steps back to prevent myself falling onto the floor. There was only a second I could observe his dark skin and equally dark eyes, but I knew that it would either be very difficult or impossible to run past him. He had the most muscles I had ever seen on a human being, to the point even the uniform was made specifically to cater for them…which evidently meant no sleeves at all.

He held up a hand. I was afraid he would snatch me right off my feet, but he simply held it by his shoulder. "Security, leave us."

I blinked fervently and took a moment to turn my head and sure enough, the guards were not too far behind me.

"But Bruno, we have reason to believe that this man is to be turned away. He caused a commotion downstairs because-"

"He claims to be Jack Ludor," the man named Bruno completed, and a quirk of an eyebrow was enough to silence any more protests. I could barely take my eyes off his thick eyebrows. "Nevertheless, I will accompany him from now on. Thank you for your concern, but please resume your normal duties."

There were a handful of murmurs behind me as the guards retraced their steps, some of them cursing under their breath whilst others were clearly just angry. Bruno didn't take long to register their leaving, instead traipsing down the hall with those burly shoulders swinging with each step. He didn't look back once, but I knew that I was supposed to follow. I made sure to keep my distance, knowing that Bruno could turn round any second and knock me out.

But he only recognised my existence once we reached a large set of golden double doors. "Wait here," he instructed.

Bruno didn't wait for me to agree or disagree, opening the door a fraction to let himself in without me seeing too much. But I did catch a glimpse of the stark interior and the linoleum that could either have suggested a kitchen or a slaughterhouse. I didn't dare imagine what was happening past those endearing doors.

Instead, I turned to face the corridor of gold upon white and took in the vase of flowers set on the oak table, the painting of the First District that hung further down the stretch. In an otherwise closed-off building of machines and lies, there was still acknowledgement of the world outside. The silence enveloped me despite the buzz of everything downstairs. I was truly alone, torn between this life and the life outside, left with just my thoughts as company.

Fortunately, Bruno came out of the room before my mind could wander for long. "He'll see you now."


	8. It's a Dog-Eat-Dog Game

**A/N: **I am really about the late update, but now I have come to work out the best way of juggling the editing and the work! With more luck, I should be able to get the rest of the chapters out soon. In this update, we have a little more awkwardness...

Thank you all for your kind words and I hope you will continue to follow this fic! Please let me know what you thought of it.

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**VIII. It's a Dog-Eat-Dog Game**

The slaughterhouse was smaller than what the double doors suggested. As I took my first steps into the room (which was covered in light wood, not linoleum like I had thought) I was aware I had stumbled into a dining room of sorts. The walls were covered in equally subtle patterns, a display of extravagant plates lining one side. The table set in the middle could cater for a small party, with each placemat complete with cutlery of every variety and an upturned glass to keep the dust out.

There was an eerie laugh, one I couldn't get out of my head even after a month. "Jack Ludor, nice of you to drop by. King Ludor knew you'd come."

And as I stared at my blood dad on the far end of the table, one arm on the table and the other idly circling the rim of his wineglass, I knew there was no mistake. His eyes were the same as mine, inquisitive and yet slightly curious. He had everything about me, from his face structure to even something like our ears. He sported four rather large piercings, three on his left side and a bar through the right. His beard extended right to his neck, but I could still see the growing frown beneath the platinum hair.

Joker flashed a grin at me before he lowered his head slightly formally. I wasn't sure to return it as I closed the door behind me.

His green eyes averted away from me slowly as he directed his next words to the man at the table. "I can assure you that this gentleman is the one I found. As for the lunch, I'll let the guests know there has been a change of plan."

Hadrian grunted softly from his throat as he continued to stare at me. I wasn't used to the pressure, and I let my eyes drift towards the ceiling adorned with a picturesque blue sky.

"Jack. What an entrance," Joker said a little too offhandedly. "I heard you caused quite a commotion downstairs."

I wasn't looking, but I was aware Joker was looking at me just as intently. He was fascinated that I had come, and I still had the tugging feeling inside that I should head back. I disliked Joker more than the first time we met, and it was amazing how quickly the memories returned. "It wasn't intentional."

"I bet," he added sceptically as one hand felt for his pocket. "I'll leave you both to it, shall I?"

Joker didn't wait for the word of approval this time, and strode across the room towards me. I stood to one side, still mildly embarrassed and nervous, as I let him make his exit. I suspected he would later gossip about me with Bruno, but that was the least of my worries. As he left the room, I felt my confidence leave with him.

It was obvious I hadn't set the best impression. My favourite jeans made me stick out in a bad way, an eyesore in a room as glorious as this. Was I expected to address him as King Ludor as well? I honestly didn't have the right capabilities to take over an entire family business, and if I was to tell him that now, would he pull me into an embrace and tell me everything would be all right the way Matthew would? Was Hadrian Ludor the face of someone who abandoned his first son?

"Jack, take a seat."

His voice was lower than I expected, yet gentle and with an air of professionalism. I obeyed him, afraid I would forget how it sounded. His eyes watched me as I lifted the chair to pull it out, afraid that its screech would only add to my growing list of bad points. He had a certain calibre about him that I found enchanting. Although he hadn't moved an inch, his voice carried in a room with no acoustics. Could I, a layabout, be like him?

"Sarah named you Eon?"

I nodded as formally as I could. Although Hadrian was slouching, I couldn't bring myself to do the same. "It's short for Albion."

He gave a sound of approval, letting a hand drum against the surface. "Yes, she always did warm up to my father," he deliberated, speaking loud and clear with pronunciation I wasn't used to. "He was the one who approved of her on that night, even before me. The final decision was mine, but my father always did have a knack for telling the future."

The grandfather I never had the chance to meet. And if Hadrian was now in charge of the casino, it only made sense that Albion had passed away without my knowledge. How many other relatives did I have, whose funerals I didn't attend because I didn't know they had existed and perhaps vice versa?

"How was she?" he asked next.

"I had the feeling she knew I was leaving," I admitted. My voice wavered, but I tried not to think much of it. "Was it your orders that I shouldn't mention anything?"

He sighed. "Jack, I hope you considered the stakes coming here today. Joker filled me in, and I trust that you are here because you didn't want your family to suffer as a result, correct?" I nodded slowly. "I cannot guarantee that, even if you become the figurehead here when I die. It's a dog-eat-dog game you're signing up to, and it's not a school trip where people hold your hand and lead you through. Some of the enemies you may make can play dirty and find them no matter how well you hide your origins."

"I know that," I cut in as I considered grabbing a spoon by the end of its handle and swinging it like an ominous pendulum if it would quell my nerves. An object of wealth, not a tool for eating. "But I guess that means I can't afford to make enemies."

I looked up at him and beamed. In return, he narrowed his eyes. "You have her smile. One of the many things I loved about her."

"So why did you leave her?" I demanded. "Is it for all the safety again? The sworn secrecy practically killed her for fifteen years, and I'm never going to have the chance to ask about it for the same ridiculous reason." My true nature was gradually returning as I went on the offense.

"It was a necessary measure." He removed his hand from the table surface and let it rest on his lap. He didn't appear to notice my change in attitude. "She wanted you to lead as much of a normal life as you could, and I fully agreed to it. The two of us never got married so no one would find you through the system. We made a clean break, ceased all communications and I never came after her. It was a risk that she decided to take, and it worked out for the better."

I pouted, finding it hard to believe that Mum would make such a bold decision. Did she, back in those days, want nothing more to do with the casino the same way she didn't want me exposed to it?

"You grew up wonderfully, with a loving family that I would never have been able to provide. A father that took my place during all your birthdays, all those hardships and painful moments. You still have the option to walk out that door anytime," he added so casually I knew it was a test.

The idea was tempting, but if I did, Charles would be the one sitting here instead. I had no choice but to go ahead with this. "I still don't see you as my dad, but I'm willing to accept it for now. I have no intention of going back, especially considering the stakes."

Hadrian's eyes narrowed. "Playing the role of the big brother?"

"Something like that," I found myself saying.

"Joker loves improvisation and biting off more than he can chew. If he said something to you, and I sincerely apologise for that, it's likely he went beyond my instructions so you would be sitting here now."

I felt my heart sink. Was my family in no real danger then? I felt betrayed, but there was also an undeniable burden taken off me. I had wondered whether it was right of me to be here, but if this was my future I was born for, then there was nothing wrong in taking ownership of what rightfully belonged to me.

I shook my head. "No, it's my choice to be here."

"You're noble," he said aloud. Like everything else that had passed through his lips, there wasn't a shred of hesitance. "Your childhood is important from now on, and your mother and I wanted you to experience so many things there that you can't here. That honourable instinct of protecting, the chivalry, are the first steps of being a man. I know I wasn't the most supportive of fathers, but I'll teach you as much as these old bones let me."

"Are you dying?"

He laughed as he reached for a wineglass at his tablemat. "Every passing second. This casino will be the death of me; there's always hushed whispers of assassination and eliminating the competition. You've just got to keep on top of the game to make sure you don't slip up, like what I've been doing all these years. If you go into the game without knowing the rules first, you'll get eaten in seconds."

The dog-eat-dog game.

"I'll study hard," I said determinedly, more intent on convincing myself rather than him.

"Excellent. Let's show you round the place." He got up from his seat, straight-backed and glass in hand but not actually drinking from it. "But first, you have a question face."

I exhaled, looking down at the spoon again. "You mentioned Joker liked to exaggerate. He said that I wasn't allowed to see my family again, and that my brother would be here if I refused." I was afraid of the answer, but I wanted to hear it. My childhood meant something, and more than anything I wanted to return, however was there even the slightest chance that Joker was wrong?

I knew the answer seconds before Hadrian replied.

"The chances of your half-brother taking over are slim. Unfortunately though, both are correct to an extent, son." And though he said that last word so forcefully his calm exterior finally broke, it couldn't compare to the sinking realisation that, like the clientele here, I had been thrown a bone and the gate had shut behind me with no way out.


	9. Raising the Stakes

**A/N: **Sorry for yet another late update - it's been a while since I have looked at this and I hope that it was worth the wait. Here we have a bit of a time skip but let me know if you felt the transition was too rushed. I'm very interested in any feedback you have or any points that I can improve on.

Thank you for reading this far into the story and things should get relatively more relevant from now on!

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**IX. Raising the Stakes**

As I promised, I didn't waver from my path once. I knew what I had to do, what I had sacrificed and what was to come. Initially during the nights I had lie awake, wondering what my family were doing on the other side of town. Did they send out a search party for me, or did my mum know that it was unnecessary? Did she tell Charles, probably the only one who was clueless about the situation, or was my life covered up with one more lie?

What was I supposed to be learning in science today? Had Tom begun to realise that something was wrong, how I wasn't simply late for weeks on end?

No one came for me except Joker in the morning, opening the curtains and telling me of arrangements of the day a butler would. My room, far wider and emptier than my one back at home, still didn't feel like mine. The clothes that I wore were now tailor-made and alien against my skin. I would spend a few minutes in the mirror examining who I turned into over the months, my facial features becoming sterner and more alert than I had ever been as Eon. On the occasions I displayed my trademark smile, it felt strained under this roof and became increasingly closer to a knowing smirk.

Year after year, my brain exploded with the necessary knowledge that both Hadrian and Joker pounded into me. I met regular clients, I developed a complex understanding of English and could turn an entire conversation into what I wanted it to with a few choice phrases. Word play became a standard whenever I was with people; I even took up drinking wine as soon as I turned eighteen, naturally under the recommendations of Joker and my father.

Only the bare bones of my first fifteen years lingered in my mind. Everything else I deemed as unnecessary to make room for the Silver Lynx and its workings.

I observed the casino proceedings from the top of the stairs, leaning an arm against the banister and overlooking everything that happened below. This before me was three generations' worth of work, and it was my duty to make sure it flourished exactly as my father had done before.

"Joker, prepare the stats report of this quarter. We should be making a considerable profit from the last quarter, and why we haven't met this quota is concerning me. Bring along the reports from the past three years too, they may prove useful."

He hadn't changed in five years, although there was a slight increase of grey hairs in the mass of black. The veins on his hands were so prominently was a clear sign of overwork, but it didn't get to him one bit. He had appeared alert on many occasions, but that wasn't enough to say he wasn't pushing to his limits.

"Certainly," he confirmed with a mild bow of the head. "We will examine them in closer detail during the 1300 meeting, Master Ludor."

"Very well." Thinking on the business level was mind-numbing, but simply looking at the employees and customers made it all the more worthwhile. It spoke to me, that I was making the right calls and that I was doing the job at a reasonable standard. There was laughter at the baccarrat table, the happy sound of cheers round the roulette. From here, in the lighting, everyone's hair illuminated bright and I could count everyone present.

There was even someone with pink hair (maybe a wig?) I could pick out, sitting way too close to the slot machine and devoting their full attention to it.

"Master Ludor, if it's bothering you, I'd like to say how well you've progressed since you've come here."

Joker always had a keen eye; he mentioned that himself the first time we met. This often meant that he knew what I was thinking just from observing my body language.

But, being at a powerful position such where I was, emotional support wasn't required. I was only a few months away from being twenty, but Joker still thought of me as that naive, stupid boy who couldn't use his brain when it mattered most. We were professionals. "Joker, I would appreciate it if you could keep such thoughts to yourself."

I didn't let my previous family get to me. My only home was here, and I had to protect my inheritance for however long I had this life for. My father had given me up so he could focus on reinforcing the company for my sake rather than contribute to my upbringing. I could forgive him for all that, when five years ago I had struggled to do the same.

In just five years, I had the thought processing of a mastermind. Eon would never have accomplished such mentality in the item shop, with his lazy attitude to work and tendency to help others rather than himself. In the same way, I had learnt so much more from my father in four years than I ever learnt from Matthew in fifteen.

I still valued all that. Life shouldn't be rushed, but the crucial thing Eon didn't see was money. The sight of it made the customers happy and what brought them here in the first place. From the top, I didn't have the capacity to remember names and faces.

So when security brought round a wriggling man, it took me a few moments to recognise the uniform as one of the casino's staff.

"Jack, we're sorry for the inconvenience but Gary caused a major disturbance."

I raised a hand before they could go any further. "It's all right, I have an inkling I know what he's after. And I will see to it my own way."

I offered a hand to Gary on the floor, but he got onto his feet on his own. Pleasantries apparently weren't on the list of how to arrange the problem. "Sir, I-"

"I am fully aware," I cut in, pushing myself off the banister and proceeding down the corridor I had dashed down to escape security the first time I came here. "If you would kindly follow me. Security, that will be all."

They dispersed, and Gary walked a few feet behind me with nervous steps. I could hear Joker reassuring him and laughing his signature laugh from time to time, but it was simply all an impression I had to set. I only spoke when necessary. My words had to be chosen carefully, formulated during the excursion down the corridor as my client got distracted. I was ahead of them both to emphasise my superiority and to expose my back, my pinstripe jacket flailing behind me as I walked briskly.

I held the door open for my followers, inviting them into my office. It wasn't much, just an oak table and some rather pointless accessories and ornaments. On my first day, I had made the mistake of putting a photograph of my family on display, causing a fair bit of disruption between my father and me.

Now it was just too overridden with paperwork, the true appearance of a busy man who was dedicated to the ruling of the casino.

"I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Sit down," I instructed, sinking myself into the leather seat on the other side. I remember throwing my legs onto the table, and that too had to be beaten out of me. I crossed one leg over the other and got comfortable. "Are you also furious about Trent's pay rise?"

"That's right," he started as he sat in the opposite seat. Joker silently stood behind me, and I could see in the reflection of the photo frame that he was sorting out his gloves. The frame housed my only living relative and me, so to speak. It was during my eighteenth birthday, where my father had requested we commemorate the moment. It was rather stuffy and arrogant to my taste, but I only put it there to satisfy my father.

"Regarding Trent, we have valid reasons why we gave him such a privilege."

"Jack, I've been working for the company for over thirty years. I demand to know what's happening round here – rumours have been spread amongst the staff that it's favouritism."

I sighed. "I am aware of that. There have been a number before you claiming the same thing. And it's come down to this."

I waved a hand at Joker, and he withdrew a gun from my desk drawer. I had thought the mannerism lazy, even for my standards, but once again it was all about power play. Gary's eyes opened in shock, and I chose not to comment on it until the gun was in my hand. It was a small reminder of who was in charge, if the silence went on for longer than necessary.

I smiled gently. "Don't look so concerned, there aren't any bullets in this. I'm not inhumane enough to bunk off my own staff. No, this is a modified weapon used especially for a miniature game of Russian roulette."

Gary swallowed, and I pretended I didn't see such fear. "What does that mean?"

"It means we'd take turns at shooting ourselves." I unlocked the barrel and showed it to Gary. "As you see, one of the slots has already been filled in. This is the real bullet, so to speak. It won't fire though, it'll just create a different sound. A blank."

I spun the barrel round and slammed it shut. Gary's eyes followed the gun as I placed it in the centre of the table.

"It's completely random where the bullet is, and you'll be the one to decide who shoots first. Simple as that. If you win, I'll give you a ten percent pay increase. If I win, you'll dismiss such thoughts and you will swear everything said in this room is sworn to secrecy. You may leave at any time and won't go on your record. However, this is the only chance I will give you." I leaned back in my chair. "What will it be?"

He blinked, and I could see the first traces of sweat on his forehead. "I'll take this chance then. You can shoot first."

I buried another smile. That's what they all said. To be polite or to see how it was done, I wasn't sure which it was. I took the butt of the gun and pressed it against my head the way it was done in the real version of Russian roulette. The game was an art, even if it was brutal and had little sense. There was a click, then I passed the gun to him.

Very easy game, yet so many people couldn't win against me. I didn't cheat; I just had the upper hand to begin with.

A bang resounded in the room as Gary shot himself. His hand shook as he sat there paralysed, trying to process what had happened. His breathing was sharp, and I relieved him of the gun before he dropped dead for real.

"Good game," I congratulated him as I got onto my feet. "Thus it is concluded."

I opened the door for Gary to go first. "But Jack…Did you do that for everyone?"

I raised my chin slightly. "Who knows. If you recall the conditions I set, even your peers wouldn't be able to answer that." My grin grew wider. "Unless they decide to break that agreement, in which case certain consequences would be inevitable."

Gary allowed me to go first whilst Joker locked up the office. "I'll honour our agreement, so I won't breathe a word."

We reached the stairs, and the staff member left the two of us without saying anything else. Undoubtedly, someone just like him will come to me in the next coming days, and I would fail to assign Gary's name to the face I saw today.

"Master Ludor, I'll be on my way to prepare the stats report. Keep your profile low," Joker added as he too left me to my own devices.

There were times where I had a few minutes to myself before meetings. I often indulged myself in wine if it was the evening, and tea if it was the morning and afternoon. However, as my eyes scanned the slot machines, I was in the mood for neither.

I was raising the stakes by doing something different to my routine, but it will pay in the long run. Hadrian had said how vital it was to socialise, and I might as well start now with the pink-haired customer.


End file.
